Undone: A Fake Fiancé Rockstar Romance

by Callie Harper

“You know what I keep thinking about, Anika?” Her free hand roamed my chest, pressing into my muscles as if she’d been wanting to do it since the second she saw me. Up at her ear, I captured her lobe between my teeth, then licked as she shuddered. “I keep thinking about the sounds you made last night.”

  I liked the feel of her touching my chest, exploring, clearly liking what she discovered. But I’d like the feel of her trapped beneath me more. In a swift motion, I captured her other wrist and brought it up above her head, then pinned them both beneath my hand. Her eyes flew open, looking up at me as I pinned her beneath me.

  Teasing, I traced a finger down her upstretched arms, down to her shoulders, down along her side.

  “Ash, we’re not supposed to—”

  “What?” I loved how breathy she sounded, how agitated. And I’d only just begun.

  “The contract we both signed.”

  “No sex, yes, that’s right.” One shoulder on, one shoulder off, I liked this dress. I brought my mouth to her exposed collarbone, licking her skin, whispering my way down to the top of her dress. With my fingers I traced the edge along the top of her breast, drawing her attention to the barrier, the border that kept her covered. “But that contract? It said nothing about this.”

  In one motion, I pulled the side of her dress down, her strapless bra along with it, exposing her creamy, full breast. She gasped as I did it, then gasped again as I groaned and dropped my mouth to her. So soft, so lush, I licked and kissed my way along her mound, sucking and stroking, still keeping her wrists fastened above her. Her eyes closed, she dropped her head back against the wall, arching her back and offering her breast up to me. Yes, I liked her like that, surrendering into the pleasure, to me.

  “Ah, Anika.” I drew back, keeping my fingers on her, circling around her nipple but not touching. Aching, pointed and dark pink, it testified to her arousal, her growing need. “You’re so responsive.” Watching her as I did it, her wrists trapped under my large hand, her eyes already closed in desire, I brought my fingers to her peaked nipple. And I pinched.

  Her mouth opened more and she moaned, one of the deep, throaty moans she’d made last night. The sound I’d kept playing for myself all day, hearing it in the shower while I stroked my long, thick cock until I came. Down again with my mouth, I took her sensitive tip into my heat and sucked, then licked, then bit. She shivered, starting to pant.

  “Ash,” she moaned. I liked hearing her say my name like that. I planned to hear it a lot more during the next month. “We could get caught.”

  “Yes, this is really dangerous.” I swept my hand along her side, down to the high slit of her dress. No nylons, nothing but creamy, soft skin as I slipped my hand along her inner thigh. “We could get caught any second.” Her breath hitched in her throat as I worked my way up, feather-soft, up her thigh until I brushed against her sex.

  Slowly, I drew a finger across her panties. Wet and hot to the touch, my Ana, so ready for me, so eager. I growled deep in my throat. Pushing the strip of silk to the side, my fingers found her slick sex. She gasped as I did it, twisting under my grasp.

  “You’d better keep quiet, Anika.” I slid my fingers along her pussy, working her, coaxing, circling at her swollen clit. “You don’t want to get caught.”

  “Ash,” she moaned again, this time more throaty, more urgent.

  “Have you thought about how I did this to you last night?” Inside of her, I drew a finger up, deep. So hot and tight, so dripping wet for me. I couldn’t wait to do more, bring my tongue down to her, feast on her. She’d taste so good, I knew she would. And what would it feel like to plunge my hard cock deep into that soft, soaking heat? To take her completely, her legs wrapped around me as I thrust into her all the way to the hilt?

  She started moving now, tilting her pussy slightly toward me, pressing into my touch, needy. “You like how I touch you, don’t you?”

  “Oh!” She turned her head to the side, flushed, shocked at my dirty talk, at the responses I drew from her.

  I hissed as I felt her slick heat. “I can’t wait to taste you. But right now, I want you to come on my fingers.” She moaned as I stroked her, deep and intimate. “Are you going to come on my fingers, Anika? The way you did last night?” Faster, harder, I fucked her with two fingers, sensing that was what she wanted. She needed me to pin her down and make her come for me, hard, right there, in the hallway up against the wall.

  “Do you want to come for me?” Up inside of her, hard, two fingers, I thrust in her pussy while pressing on her clit. She was so sensitive, so wet, so desperate, the sounds she made as I stoked her desire.

  “I’m…we…”

  “No, we shouldn’t be doing this.” I watched her as I spoke, her eyes closed, lips parted, breath coming in harsh pants. I’d never seen anything more beautiful. “And you shouldn’t come on my fingers. But you’re going to, aren’t you?”

  “Yes,” she cried out, her nipple so hard and aching for my touch, but I wouldn’t free her to do it, not yet. I’d keep her trapped, one hand on her wrists, the other on her pussy and enough distance between us I could watch every second of her gorgeous face when she surrendered into her orgasm.

  “Come for me, Anika.” Plunging two fingers deep up inside of her, I could feel her shuddering, her quivering build and then break under my command, swelling up and cresting over her as I pressed into her clit.

  “Oh! Ash!” she called out as she came, obeying my order, coming hard and full on my fingers, her juices dripping down my hand.

  “That’s it,” I praised her and she shuddered again. I brought my mouth down to hers, drinking in her cries as the waves hit, the intense pleasure wracking her body as I continued to stroke, drawing every last ounce of it out of her that I could. With Anika, I was a greedy man.

  “So good.” I kissed her throat, letting her hands drift down, dreamy, to my shoulders.

  “Oh, Ash, I can’t believe…” She couldn’t really speak, couldn’t manage to string together a coherent sentence. Exactly how I wanted to keep her every second of every day for the next month.

  “There you two are!” Lola burst through the door. My body shielding Ana’s, I let her dress fall back down and quickly tugged the top back up. “Save it for the cameras, kids. Don’t waste it on an empty hallway.”

  “What are you still doing here?” I didn’t like how guilty Ana suddenly looked, upset and even a little scared about getting caught. She had to know, she was with me now. I didn’t have to follow the rules, and neither did she. She was with a rock star now, baby. It was playtime any time we wanted.

  “It’s family photo time!” Lola sang out. “You two have got to get front and center! Chop chop!”

  Groaning, I drew a hand through my hair and adjusted myself. Ana had come but the raging erection tenting my pants still strained for release. Ana smoothed her dress, tugging and pulling.

  “You look perfect,” I assured her, and I wasn’t just saying it. The slightly tousled look to her hair, the pink flush to her skin, nothing like an intense orgasm to take her glow and turn it up an impossible additional notch.

  “Come!” Lola beckoned us at the door.

  I couldn’t resist. As I pressed a hand to Ana’s lower back, guiding her toward the door, I leaned down and murmured in her ear, “You already did.”

  She blushed appropriately. And, happily, even with our schoolmarm hustling us away, she still looked pretty pleased. As well she should.

  “Family photo time,” I whispered to her as we re-entered the ballroom. “I know what I’ll be thinking about as I smile for the camera.”

  She gave a hushed laugh, soft and intimate. Yeah, this was a good thing. Lola was wrong, we weren’t going to save it all for the cameras. I had a lot of plans, and they involved lots of time far away from prying eyes, doing the kinds of things Ana would only do with the guarantee of privacy, no record at all. Just between us.

  9

  Ana

  I’d never seen anything like this pr
ivate black tie ball hosted by one of the more prominent families in New York. Everyone was dressed like they were attending a red carpet awards show. The champagne glass in my hand felt so heavy it had to be real crystal. Who used real crystal for a party of hundreds of people? What would the bill for broken glasses be, alone? Never mind paying for the never-ending platters of hors d’oeuvres, the copious free alcohol flowing, the countless wait staff, the decorations.

  The Christmas tree in the corner of the room stretched all the way to the ceiling and overflowed with ornaments positioned just so. Opulence and shimmer abounded everywhere you looked, though owls seemed to be the main theme. Popping out among the branches I spotted a bunch of ornaments with white fluffy feathers and glittering beaks. Even the Charlie Brown tree Jillian and I had bought outside a bodega in Brooklyn and lugged up the three flights of stairs had set us back $70. How did these people have so much money? I’d never seen such a thing.

  “You doing all right?” Ash asked, by my side as he had been all night. Including in the hallway. A flush of heat stole over my entire body at the memory. What that man did to me, I’d never experienced anything like it. “You want anything else? Gram has some salmon and…” He craned his neck looking over at a giant banquet table decked out with trays, “anything else you could possibly think of. Want to go check it out?”

  I shook my head. “No, thanks.” Shame I wasn’t more hungry. My Aunt Irina would want me to fill my purse up with dinner rolls. Every time we went out to eat, she’d tuck an extra ketchup packet in her purse. Because you never knew.

  I wondered if Ash’s grandmother had ever encountered a ketchup packet in her entire life. Though she didn’t seem too high and mighty. She’d seemed surprisingly friendly when we’d met, inviting Ash and me to tea. I’d have to ask the PR team about etiquette when taking tea with an older British woman, but something told me they’d have no idea. How to strategically flash your va-jay-jay to paparazzi while exiting a limo, the proper way to plump up your lips and pout while angling for the camera, that they knew. Not so much the traditions of elders.

  “Want to go check out the band? They’re really good.”

  “I’d love to.”

  Ash held my hand, leading me through the crowd. It seemed to part for him, but I guessed that happened a lot for a rock star. Funny, I hadn’t known him long but I hadn’t seen much of the strutting cock-on-the-walk yet. I’d seen him hiding under my desk in a library, greeting his grandmother with affection and getting accosted by stuffy and displeased-looking older relatives. It was cute, I had to admit. I’d have to watch it with thoughts like that.

  I could already tell, Ash was too good at the romance angle of this arrangement. Just the way he’d looked at me when I’d exited the limo had taken my breath away. When he’d first seen me tonight, he’d gazed at me the way every girl dreamed a man would look at her one day, as if I were some sort of celestial creature dropped down from above, beyond gorgeous in every way. Only Ash had enough of a carnal glint he didn’t make me feel like too much of an angel. He made me feel like he wanted to cherish, worship and adore me, only with Ash I had a feeling that would involve a whole lot of licking, sucking and finger-fucking. If only I could manage to feel less turned on by that thought.

  He led me right up to where the band played at the far end of the ballroom, loud enough for people to dance nearby but not so loud as to deafen conversation in the rest of the party. How did the hotel get that exactly right? There must be a prescribed Waldof-Astoria decibel level.

  “This guy on bass.” Ash pointed out a tall, dapper looking fellow clearly enjoying himself playing an upright bass. “He’s good.” The whole band sounded great to me, playing upbeat swing standards people of all ages could enjoy.

  “He’s pretty cool.” I smiled, enjoying the jaunty tilt to his hat. Even in a tux, he had the whole hipster swing vibe down with a goatee, red suspenders and polished wing-tip shoes.

  Ash scowled a bit. Jealous? That meant I had to tease him. With a sigh, I continued. “I wish he were my date tonight.”

  “What?” There was a hilarious sharpness to his voice. I couldn’t help it, I broke my guise, a peal of laughter rising up.

  “Well.” Ash recovered himself, straightening his tux that needed no straightening. “I mean, I guess that guy would be fine to hang out with. If you liked hanging out with guys old enough to be your father. But, Ana.” He turned to me, looking strangely serious. “You shouldn’t date musicians.”

  I had to laugh again. “Said the musician.”

  “Yes, that’s why I’m saying it. We all suck. Nothing but late nights and touring and groupies. It’s not for you.”

  “OK, Ash.” Settle down, I wanted to say, but I turned my attention to the band. I got it. He didn’t want me getting attached to him. He was warning me off, setting boundaries. Letting me know that whatever had happened out in that back corridor didn’t mean anything. None of this did. I was hired help.

  “Asher.” His grandmother appeared by his side, looking impressively grand and lively though I guessed she had to be in her late 70s. “Why don’t you join them and sing us something.”

  “What?” For a famous singer, Ash looked shocked at the request. “You’ve never wanted me to sing at this party before.”

  “I’d love it.” She smiled at him and I could already tell, she was going to get what she wanted. I bet she always did. “We all would.” She gave me a quick look and I realized she wanted me to join in the persuasion.

  “I’d love to hear you sing, Ash.” I meant it, too. I’d heard him enough times through my earbuds while walking down the streets of New York City. What would it be like in person?

  “Yeah?” He looked at me, the hint of a smile tugging at his mouth. What a mouth. I loved it when he kissed me. And earlier, he’d said he wanted to taste me. I didn’t think I’d survive that. OK, grandmother standing a few feet away. I needed to fan myself and reign in my thoughts.

  “Let’s have some Frank,” his gram decreed. Without waiting for Ash’s green light, she raised an index finger to the lead singer. Just that slight gesture caught his attention. He knew who was signing his check that evening. At the end of the current number, he excused himself for a moment and hopped over to us.

  “Wonderful music tonight.” Ash’s grandmother sparkled at him.

  “We’re having a grand old time.” He looked it, too. I bet his earnings for this party covered some nice presents under his tree this Christmas.

  “Would you be so kind as to let my grandson sing a number?”

  “Yeah, no problem.” He turned and suddenly seemed to realize who he was standing next to. “No shit!” he exclaimed, a hand to his forehead. “Sorry.” He looked back at Gram, realizing he’d cursed.

  “I understand.” She nodded her forgiveness.

  “Hey, man.” Ash extended his hand. “You guys sound great.”

  “Wow, what are you doing here? I didn’t have any idea—”

  “Asher’s my grandson.” Gram sped things along. “Now, if you’d be so kind.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” The band leader gave himself a little shake, clearly trying to pull himself together.

  “Be right back.” Ash gave me a smile and a quick kiss on the cheek. Damn if it didn’t feel so right.

  “I do hope he’s treating you well, dear.” Ash’s grandmother kept her attention on her grandson as she spoke.

  “Sure.” What would she think of all of this, his elaborate ruse to rehab his image? Something told me she wouldn’t approve.

  “The trick is to expect nothing less.”

  “Oh.” I nodded. It sounded easy when she said it.

  “Never settle.” Now the dazzling force of her sparkling blue eyes looked directly into my soul. She tapped me lightly with something on my arm for emphasis. A small fan, I realized, which she then folded up and discreetly tucked into the end of her elbow-length glove. So that was where people kept their fans. Not that I’d ever actually talked to anyone
in a ball gown with a fan before, but I’d seen my share of period films. I liked my Jane Austen.

  “All right, you guys and dolls, we’ve got a crazy treat for you.” The leader spoke into the mic. “Any of you out there ever heard of a cat named Ash Black?”

  A roar erupted from the dance floor, along with a few high-pitched squeals. I guessed there were a few people who were fans, though from what I’d seen they weren’t his immediate family members. His older brother, in particular, seemed to give him a frosty reception earlier.

  “Hello, hello.” Ash took the mic and strut front and center, clearly in his element. He unbuttoned his jacket. I swallowed in anticipation. “This one goes out to my favorite girls. You know who you are.” He pointed over to his grandmother and me, and I think we both glowed a bit at the dedication.

  Turning to the band, he snapped his fingers and gave them, “and a one, a two.” The band magically came to life, playing out the opening chords. A brass section set the tone, a few guys on trumpets swaying from side to side. My toes set to tapping.

  With an understated nod of his head, Ash began. “I’ve got you under my skin.” He was looking straight at me. “I’ve got you deep in the heart of me.”

  Oh no. I loved this song. I was pretty sure my older parents had played me Frank Sinatra in utero, then over and over growing up until it was part of my DNA.

  Ash closed his eyes, getting into the music, moving to the swing beat. “I’ve tried so, not to give in. I’ve said to myself this affair, it ain’t gonna go so well. But why should I try to resist when, baby, I know so well.” Looking at me again, he broke into a devastatingly sexy smile. “That I’ve got you under my skin.”

  “He’s quite good, isn’t he?” his grandmother observed.

  “Wow,” was all I could manage. I knew if you looked up ‘star struck’ in the dictionary you’d see a big old picture of me and I should pull myself together and all that, but not now. Now when Ash Black strutted around on stage in a tux crooning straight at me. What a voice! His songs were much harder-driving, with much more snarl and bite. He was famous for how he could belt it out, then pull it back into a restrained whisper, but here he just let it all pour out of him, honey gold and full, relishing every note. He had such presence, such charisma and swagger up there, owning the spotlight with his lean hips and long legs, his hand out to point at the crowd or gesture to the band. Wow.